What if he has succeeded?I respond.
Then don’t let him see.
The elven women dress me for inspection, not for warmth. A low-necked gown in winter white, showcasing the somehow mostly nonexistent scar. The seamstress I chose arrives without comment and adjusts lines with pins between her lips. She does not look me in the eyes at all.
I wonder if she notices the missing gem.
Then, we go up. Strangely, a stream of musicians passes us, their instruments wrapped up. The antechamber blooms with light torches and spell lights.
Arion stands before a tapestry of a stag trampling a field of wildflowers. His eyes move from the tapestry to me with an expression that returns me to the first night we met. He’s pleased to see me.
He comes near enough that I can smell the clean, spiced scent of whatever shining oil he uses on his hair. He lifts my chin with a finger, then his eyes drop. Down my throat.To my chest.
“Thank you, Thorne. All of you may go,” he says abruptly. “I’ll ensure my bride returns to her chambers unharmed.”
I hear them leave more than see them. I should feel unsafe, should have warning bells going off in my head. I feel nothing.
His fingers follow his eyes. “Much better,” he says. “You must feel so much lighter without the burdens of your past, little one.”
I do not answer. The phrases they taught me sit behind my teeth like coins I do not want to spend.
“I’m told you’ve been making good progress. You are almost ready for the ball next week, and I would be lying if I said I was not starting to grow excited as well,” he says. His fingers close around my throat. “These new manners suit you.”
Finally, my eyes snap up to lock onto his. “What manners? I am a caged dog and you hold the hot stick.” My voice is lifeless.
All the pleasure in his face fades, and his grip tightens slowly around my throat.
“Still using that mouth to get in trouble, are we?”
He begins to push me backward, hard enough that I am pressed into one of the wooden columns. I still feel numb.
Cursed One?I start.
Once again, I feel the increased presence of Cursed One, only for her to retreat swiftly.
Can’t hurt him.
“I hold the power here. Over you, your future, your people, and my own kingdom. How dare you insult me?”
I stare into his eyes, still feeling nothing. This is my life now. This man will be my husband, and I’m already bleeding, which means I could conceive soon.
In the absence of feeling, my thoughts come loose.
“Your people insult you behind your back,” I say. His green eyes narrow to pinpricks.
“You. Know. Nothing,” he seethes, releasing me. More air floods into my throat, but I don’t move.
“Yes, my king. Forgive my brash words,” I say. As if this can fix the damage I’ve already done. “I only worry for you, and for ourlife together.”
If I didn’t know better, I would say the darkness inside of me likes what it sees.
“You are a pawn, and you will behave as such. In a week, there will be no doubt as to my power, and you will be my bride. We will pass through the ballroom and pause below the balcony. You will say: ‘My king, I am honored.’ You will incline your head precisely so. You will accept my collar, you will smile while it is praised, and then you will give me a fucking heir, and I will keep your people safe.”
“You allowed them to remove what belonged to me,” I say, softly enough that I can pretend I did not speak if he gives me another one of his sharp looks. “They hurt me. Why would you allow that to happen to your future wife?”
Vann would have never let anything touch me.
Arion hears me perfectly. His smile is cold as ice. “You misunderstand. What belongs to you is what I permit you to hold. I own you now. That was the deal you made to save your people, so I suggest you don’t go back on it now.”
